Wisdom Lost
by 7elda Chick
Summary: (This is a fanfic I wrote a few years back, but recently salvaged and edited.) Something is wrong! There is unrest in Zelda's heart. Every night, she has the same dream, wherein Nayru, her guardian goddess, pleads with her to seek out a lost hero. She goes out in search of Link, not knowing what great journey awaits her. (Please review!)
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

_**.**_

The dilapidated wagon shuddered over the harsh terrain. Trying to keep myself from rolling around the floor with the other cargo, I had braced my back against a heavy box which had startlingly introduced itself during one of the wagon's severer jolts.

"Oh, Nayru, what is it you want of me?" I whispered so softly I could barely hear my own pleading tone. There came no answer, only an irate puttering in the cart's left wheel as it encountered a more than miniscule bump in the dirt road. "Oh, Nayru…" I murmured more urgently. "I have come seeking your favor. Guide me!" Still, no heavenly wisdom was bequeathed.

It was night, and I was not where I belonged. I was a fugitive on a mission to understand a dream which appeared to me every night. While in deep slumber, a beautiful face cloaked in a soft luminescence would appear before me. This spirit would speak to me, demanding that I seek for a lost hero. "Find the one who walked alone…" She'd repeat in her melodious voice.

After this dream had first come to me, I had chosen to ignore it, but every night since, the same godly face, same pleading tone would fill my mind, until I could no longer ignore its prompting. So tonight, I had taken upon myself a journey to find this "one who walked alone" mentioned by the goddess in my dream. After sneaking out of my castle, which was not an easy act, I had hitched a horse and wagon and set off in the direction of the forest. I knew where I was heading, but I was beginning to regret that I'd gone alone.

I closed my eyes. It wasn't fear for my own welfare that caused me to reconsider my actions, but the knowledge of the Castletown dwellers' reaction to my disappearance. Riots could break out—murder and angst. Who knew what the people would consider or perform, but I was sure it wouldn't be kindly or prudent. My innermost wish was that the letter I had left for my nurse Impa would settle the matter and that in the morning, I would return to my home, without having to face any misfortunate consciences.

As the wagon wove its distorted way in a direction I couldn't predict, a vision or vivid dream warped between the darkness of my eyelids. I could see Impa, way back at the castle I felt so distant from. She was entering my room. The cold moonbeams inflowing by the window I had forgotten, in my haste, to draw the curtains across were illuminating the otherwise emptiness of my bed, immediately alerting her of my absence. I suspected she'd straightaway flag the guards and alert the castle, but to my bewilderment she didn't even appear surprised at my untimely disappearance. The light of the window cast an eerie light across Impa's face, twinkling in her eyes, enabling me to read her demeanor—sad and aggrieved. She gazed reflectively at the empty pillow on which my head had once compressed, and I wondered if in her mind she still saw me there, safe and sound.

Breathing in a slow, sorrowful breath, Impa lifted her hands and performed a gesture I had seen only the sages do in times of great sadness and woe. She touched her forehead once with the tips of the index and middle fingers of each hand and then placed her arms crossed over her heart. It was sign to the goddesses to protect their own, like a prayer for divine safety. As Impa did this movement of her fingers, she closed her eyes and her two lips murmured a silent word, "Zelda." My heart plunged into my stomach at the recognition of my own name.

Her standing there with her arms crossed over her heart, eyes closed, glossy tears peeping up from behind her long lashes—this image burned in my mind, and I knew deep in my heart that something was wrong—something worse than our separation pained her. Impa's eyes opened, gazing at me through the vision, grasping at my bleeding heart.

Abruptly, a tremor in the ground brought me to rapid awareness, and I had just enough time to realize the wagon was tipping before the back of my head smacked the curtains now strewn across the firm ground. Bottles and jars scrambled diagonally along the wagon floor, whamming into the same side I had painfully encountered. My sword slid with them, coming up beside me.

My heart beating wildly, I lay there listening, still recovering from the shock of the tipping wagon and the fear of the vision of Impa. There was a strange sense in the air, like a dissipating echo of a deafening explosion, but I couldn't be sure if I had dreamed the noise or simply, in my detached senses, exaggerated its intensity. Whatever the cause for the noise, if there had been one unusual, I wasn't about to find out. I crawled back to an upright position and, grabbing my sword, found my way past the wagon's lopsided entrance.

My first step onto solid ground was a shaky one. My head still careened from the unexpected blow I had taken. My vision was wobbly and blurred, and in fear lest someone or something might spot me out in the openness of what I thought was Hyrule Field, I fled toward the forest without stopping a moment to glance behind me.

The trees were bending in unnatural ways, seemingly of their own accord, wriggling like slimy serpents before my eyes, and I figured my head must have been jolted worse than I had first assumed. Stopping to close my eyes and rest my body, I leaned against a tree. The inside of my throbbing head rolled around as if it were not attached to anything. Gripping my temples, I released a pained moan. The intensity of my own lament startled me. I hadn't noticed the muteness of the forest until the volume of my own quiet voice articulated rather loudly by comparison.

I found that blinking helped to cure the distortion of my vision, and so I blinked continuously until the world around began to take shape and form. I could vaguely decipher a distant, flickering light in the gloom of the evening and alteration of my senses. Each time I blinked, it became more distinct. Abruptly, my eyes focused, and I realized it was candle, flickering through a windowpane. I glanced around. Although the darkness prohibited my ability of establishing any distinct details about my location, the layout of the cabins was familiar. To my disbelief, I had somehow managed to get myself exactly where I was heading—the Ordon Village.

Across the small bridge, winding my way between cabins, I happened upon my sought-after destination. Because I was never out past ten-o-clock, perhaps it wasn't so strange that I had never before noticed how diverse and mysterious familiar things appear when covered in night's shroud. I recognized Link's house, the only treehouse in the village and perhaps the whole of Hyrule, but something felt oddly unfamiliar. So many times in my younger days I had climbed the ladder leading into his house without hesitation, free and smiling and happy, but now I realized how distant those memories felt, how far I'd let myself stray from my friend. In the old days, soon after the Ordon Village was built, I had always considered it a second home to me. Yet, I hadn't visited it in years, and a home cannot be classified as a home by anyone until that person feels comfortable being there. I didn't fit that description. Rather, I felt like a stranger who had wandered in unawares.

The imposing silhouette of Link's house glowered down at me as though it were a monster awakened in its sleep by an unwanted visitor. Could that be how Link would address me, as if I were a bothersome disturbance?

No, I could not do it. I couldn't climb those steps into the past and reacquaint myself with a person I had acted as if didn't exist for four years. But perhaps the barrier that posed the greatest threat of keeping he and I apart was not so much that we had grown distant during the passing of years but that there was a certain self-conviction sizzling in my heart, a feeling akin to shame, as my self-conscious reflected on our last parting. Link had risked everything he had to save my life, my kingdom, and the world, but when he completed this incredible task, I awarded him with nothing. No banquet, no celebration, not even recognition for all he had done. The townsfolk never knew what brave soul had conquered the enemy and restored life to those morphed into oblivious ghosts during the evil Zant's attempt to merge light and twilight. Link was forced to go back to his simple way of living, unrecognized as the hero he was.

Why would he accept and forgive me when I had left him to wallow in obscurity all this time? We hadn't even had correspondence. I had treated him as though he had dropped off the edge of the world, and there I was at his doorstep, seeking his help. No, I couldn't just use him as a broom sweeping away the mess I had made. Not this time. If I couldn't go to him seeking friendship and nothing else, I wouldn't go to him at all.

I had made up my mind, but what were the options? If not to his house, where would I go? The forest behind the treehouse, even dark and spooky, seemed more amicable than the old memories appearing around me. One memory was more prominent in my recollection than the others. It was of my first meeting with Link when I was six and he was seven, back in the old castle before it had been destroyed. He had somehow managed to find his way to me by sneaking between the guards, which were far less agile and perceptive than the ones I hired myself for the castle later in life.

At first, I hadn't known who he was or why one such as he, in foreign clothes, would seek me out, but when I saw his fairy, the prophecy foretold to me by the wise old Sages became dreadfully clear. One from the forest would one day save Hyrule from a terrible evil—this was the prophecy, and it corresponded with Link's forest attire and the awful dreams I had been having every night. Believing Link to be the hero of legend, I told him what I had been dreaming, how every night in my sleep I'd see a mass of dark storm clouds overlay all of Hyrule, but in their midst a magnificent bright beam of light, spouting from the forest, would penetrated through the darkness, illuminating the ground and causing the clouds to disperse. The light would then transform into a figure followed by a fairy—one I supposed was Link. Also, I explained to Link who exactly I thought the dark clouds represented. "That man, in there," I had said, pointing through the window I had been spying through before Link disturbed me. The man bowing to my father, one known as Ganondorf, the leader of the Gerudos of the Western Desert, had evil eyes; and I was sure that, although he swore allegiance to my father, he was not at all sincere. There was no other person the dark clouds in my dream could have symbolized. I sent my new acquaintance, the little Korirki boy in a green tunic assisted by a fairy, on a mission that seemed impossible, but he had to stop this evil man before it was too late.

I still remember pleading with my father, but he had most verbally disregarded my concerns about Ganondorf, refusing to believe my dream was in any way connected to the olden prophecy. Still, I was sure Ganondorf wasn't there to serve my father, but to steal the royal family's most prized possession. My family's treasure was a gift, called the Triforce, given to us by the golden goddesses before they left our world for the heavens. The Triforce has one very unique power—the power to grant the wish of the one who holds it in his hand. If one with a righteous heart were to make the right wish, the world would be rewarded with a golden age of prosperity, but if one with an evil mind had his wish granted, the world would be consumed by a wicked and bloodthirsty evil. Knowing this, the Sages erected the Temple of Time around the Triforce to protect it from evil ones. Link, though but a boy, had to make sure that Ganondorf didn't steal the Triforce and with it, the life of all that was good.

The gravity of the mission I had given Link didn't occur to me until a few days later, when Impa and I were fleeing the castle on horseback, my father's dead body lying limply in the courtyard. Ganondorf sat on the back of his midnight-black horse, clutching his bloody sword, and chasing us away from our home. As we passed the drawbridge, I had the instant to glance back at Link who stood petrified near the moat, his face painted with horror at the sight of our pursuer. In that moment, time stood still. He and I, though fearful and uncertain what we, as mindless children could accomplish, were willing to try anything-do anything for each other and our little world suddenly in danger. I needed him, and he knew it. That trivial instant was the most important moment of my life, but also the most painful. In it, he and I shared a silent agreement and matured more than most people do in a lifetime. Forgetting our childish world of fun and light, he and I grasped the weight of life and death and understood that to keep the latter at bay, we'd have to fight, no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice. With all the strength left in my waning body, I flung my little blue ocarina in his direction, hoping-knowing he would understand. Then I fainted, remembering only the warmth of Impa's body against my back and the dissipating image of Link's bright, boyish eyes transforming into those of a reality-stricken adult finally leaving his toy-box for a sword and shield. From that point on, he was never the same.

I quickly shook my head, freeing myself from the horrible flashback. I needed to rid myself of these toilsome memories. Quickly, I fled into the forest behind Link's house.

My legs, which ran not only because I commanded them to, but because they seemed to fear what lurked behind, stumbled deeper into the undergrowth. Coming to a tree, I bowed myself before it and slid into a pile of leaves. It was so dark now, I couldn't see my own hand inches from my face. I hugged my knees into my chest as tears twinkled on the ends of my eyelashes. I didn't have any idea why I was crying, but in no way could I convince myself to stop. My fingers tingled with cold, and my body was so frozen, no longer did I feel pain, but a sore numbness in my limbs.

Here I will die—I thought to myself—Here in the solitude of the forest they will find my body. What we lose because of our thoughtlessness! I closed my eyes for what I supposed was the last time.

Almost the instant my eyelids touched, a rumble deep in the earth seethed over the surface, and my eyes flicked wide open.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

_**.**_

After the unnerving tremor had thundered deep in the earth, everything was abnormally silent. My head throbbed as my racing heartbeat bombarded through my ears.

I waited in suspense for something—anything to happen. The darkness was undisturbed, seeming to be asleep, leaving me unprotected and blind to my surroundings. In what seemed a decade, one minute inched away without so much as the chirp of a cricket to break the unsettling silence and ease my anticipation. I began to doubt what had happened, rationalizing what I had heard and felt as a trick brought on by disorientation. Still, I couldn't persuade my eyes to close or my tense nerves to relax.

I forced myself to inhale a deep breath, hoping it would convey some sort of ease to the situation; but my breath was cut short by a deafening shriek and a rumble in the soil so violent, my brain rattled in my skull. Fear latched onto my skin and crept over my entire body, petrifying me. I couldn't breathe, nor could I move. That's when the eye appeared.

A solitary eye the size of a wagon wheel, glowing with an eerie red light, materialized twelve inches in front of my face, its slitted, cat-like pupil glaring straight into my very soul. I hadn't even an instant to scream before I was whiplashed from the ground and flung across the forest. My back slammed into a tree, knocking the air out of my lungs. Pain gushed through my body. As I gasped for air, the ground rumbled again, and I knew the creature was coming for me a second time. As it approached, it trampled over the trees, breaking their closely-knit limbs and permitting the silvery light of the moon to shimmer down between us. I then saw what hunted me.

I wasn't quite sure what it was, because I had never seen one before. Its body was round and scaly, with one huge eye, the one I had seen before, set in its center. Two large, reptilian legs branched from below his spherical form, quickly on the move as he advanced.

When it reached me, it once again stuck its enormous eye right in front of my face, studying me to see if his work was finished. I lay still, my heart trembling as pain from my recent injury swelled over my skin. I couldn't move. I could barely breathe, but I was alive; and noticing this, the monster bellowed in rage and a huge arm ejected from the right side of its body. It positioned its fist above me, preparing to strike down and end my life. I didn't have the time nor the strength to escape.

As my death blow plummeted through the air, something whistled past my face, and suddenly, the monster writhed backward, yodeling in pain and outrage. Implanted in its large, red eye was an arrow. The monster's hand retracted into its scaly flesh, and it stumbled back into the darkness until the pounding of its feet grew distant and the glow of its red eye vanished.

For few moments, I stared at the darkness into which the monster had disappeared, my heart still hammering against my ribs, hardly believing I was still alive. Then I glanced around and noticed a figure standing in the distance.

The moonlight danced across the young man's features and glittered off his golden hair, suppressed by a long green hat. His aged tunic, the same color as his hat, flapped eagerly in the icy breeze. In his hand, he clutched a lowered longbow.

"Link…" I murmured wistfully. Although my voice barely reached even my own ears, the moment his name was muttered, the young man turned his eyes off the forest and gazed at my face. For a silent moment, he and I watched each other.

I studied his face carefully, never wanting to forget any part of it again. His signature long, curved eyebrows and firmly-set jaw suggested that he was glaring and scowling, but I knew that to truthfully determine his feeling was never to read his face, for he hid all emotion quite well, but to search the chasm of his bright blue eyes. They told all. I stared into them, wondering at his thoughts.

Link strapped his bow to his back and walked over to me. I swiftly rose to my feet, forgetting the subdued soreness in my back until the movement rekindled its intensity. I cringed, but quickly overcame the revelation and forced a soft smile.

As he approached, I realized how mature he had become, and my smile faded. He looked so different than I remembered him, but then again, I was remembering the little kid with an ocarina, and not a young man who had fought and conquered the worst types of evil. I knew he was eighteen and I was seventeen years of age, but I never quite considered him an adult, although I respected him as one.

Back before the twilight had overtaken the land, he and I had shared a special bond. When I was with him, I would no longer feel the burdening pressure of royal life. Instead, I would be filled with a childish happiness, the freedom of a careless spirit to laugh and act in a way a princess should never act. Unlike the citizens of Castletown, who would murmur under their breath and exchange quizzical looks if I said or did anything they considered unfit for a princess, Link never judged me or expected something from me. He just let me be myself.

Yet, after Midna left, after the twilight dispersed, after so many questions went unanswered, I couldn't force myself to go to Link and right what had been wronged. Instead, I let him drift further and further from me. Like a punishment for my cowardliness, I had to suffer four years of cold reality without Link's companionship. Even during those long bitter years, inside myself, I had always looked forward to a time wherein he and I would be reacquainted, and I believe that hidden hope was what helped me to disregard the gossip, stand with perfect princess posture, and get through the toughest of days as admirably as I had. I wondered if he ever missed those times he and I used to share.

Looking at him then, so mature, so authoritative, I felt weak and insecure. I was sure our relationship could never be the same, and I felt ashamed to think it ever could be. I had waited too long.

When I emerged from my reverie, Link and I were standing face-to-face, and I didn't know how long I had been gazing at him so sadly and longingly. I quickly looked away, hoping the darkness would hide my blush. Me blushing in front of him? That was something new, and I wasn't sure if I approved of it.

Before I could compose myself, it came for us again. Trees cracked. The ground shook. A huge ball the size of a bolder came smashing through the forest, trampling everything in its path. It was heading right for us. I gasped. In an instant, Link dove at me, pushing me out of the way as the monster crushed the patch of earth were we had been standing. Link rolled to his feet, leaving me on the ground to watch in horror as a familiar red eye opened in the center of the scaly ball that had nearly killed us.

Feet and legs extended from the monster's base, elevating him to his full height, at least twenty feet from the earth. A mouth materialized below his eye, and he bellowed in aggravation before turning to face me again. I had been too struck with fear to notice Link's quick thinking. He had called for his horse Epona, and was just now dragging me away from the bloodthirsty creature. I jumped to my feet when I understood what was happening.

"Quickly," Link said in his rough tone. "Go." Before I could protest, Link had lifted me into his strong arms and placed me on Epona's back. Then he slapped Epona's rear, and I had just enough time to grip the reins before the horse galloped away at full speed. I glanced behind me, having only an instant to see Link retrieve his sword from the holster on his back. Then the trees grew dense, and I lost view of both him and his opponent.

"Wait!" I hollered back, but my voice was cut short when Epona lurched to the side and continued to lurch, avoiding the trees in our way.

No, I wasn't about to let Link get out of my sight again. It was late, and maybe I wasn't thinking clearly, but my decision could not be changed. Link may have been perfectly capable of defeating the monster by himself, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to help him.

I yanked on Epona's reins, making us slide to a stand-still. Epona glimpsed back at me with a look that seemed to say, "Why'd you go and do that for?"

I leaned forward. "Epona, we have to go back to get Link," I whispered urgently into her ear.

Her eyes widened, and she produced an intimidating neigh seeming to represent the words, "Are you crazy!"

"Maybe," I answered hesitantly. "I am talking to a horse after all…"

"Touché," she whinnied.

"Let's go." Using the reins, although I'm sure I didn't need them since Epona seemed to understand where I was heading, I turned us around and together we trotted back to our previous location.

Finally my eyes caught sight of Link. He was fine, slashing away at the stunned eyeball of the creature. I breathed a sigh of relief. Surely, the monster would not last much longer.

I didn't expect what happened next. A prompt hand ejected from the monster, thrusting Link down onto his back. His sword went flying. In a flash of scaly skin, the creature was on top of him, the weight of which suffocating the very breath from Link's lungs. I stood aghast for a moment, not believing what was seeing. An expression overcame Link's face—one I had never seen him exhibit before, and it startled me worse than the sudden attack of the monster. I recognized the expression, for I had seen it many times displayed on the faces of the Castletown folks when a storm was brewing or a battle was imminent. It was the look of one who feared.

If it weren't for the helpful push back to reality Epona's soft muzzle provided upon my back, I may have let Link die, being too overwhelmed by what I was witnessing. But thankfully, the slight push was just what I needed. Before I knew what I was doing, I had darted over to Link's sword which had landed in a pile of leaves, grabbed hold of its hilt, raced over to the monster, and plunged the blade into his eye socket. Blood drizzled down. Immediately, the creature let out a wounded bellow, and his legs retracted. He rolled off Link and would've kept rolling if a tree had not brought him to a standstill. There, the monster exploded, pieces of scaly flesh fluttering in the air as Link's sword clanged to the ground, its bloody blade reflecting the light of the large silver moon.

Link and I gasped in perfect harmony, he to fill his empty lungs and me out of unbelief at what I had just done and witnessed.

In the distance, Epona whinnied triumphantly.

Link scrambled to his feet, trying to regain his characteristic staid expression. That clearly not accomplished, he looked at me.

"I guess I just repaid you for one of the times you saved me…" I murmured, but my humor died in the air.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

_**.**_

Link hoisted me onto Epona's back, and I let myself lean forward, groggily resting the side of my head against her torso. The warmth of her body against my frozen ear made it tingle. I twirled the horse's white mane around my fingers. Somehow, doing so calmed my anxiety. Blinking away the sleepiness, I straightened my back as Link grasped Epona's reins in his gloved hand and slowly led her and me out of the forest; at least, I hoped that's where we were heading. My exhaustion had annulled my sense of direction.

The forest was a desolate place in which few dared to travel. The way was treacherous, being peppered with ditches, swamps, gorges, and a vast circuit of twisted roots which coiled up from the soil like monstrous hands intent to thwart and strangle anything they came in contact with. I had never before been in a forest like the one Link and I were trekking, but I had heard many stories about hopeful yet foolish heroes intent to conquer the maddening maze of the forest who had been lost and never heard from again.

How much simpler life was in the days of my youth, before the deeds of sinful men transformed my beautiful world into a nightmare! The forests used to be peaceful, sacred places, dwellings of the goddesses who protected them. Children would run barefoot among the flora and bathe in clear, blue rivers that meandered through the ventilated landscape. But those days died years ago, when a terrible evil erupted in the hearts of untrue Hyrulians, and the blessings gifted to this realm by the goddesses were reclaimed.

A terrible blight tore through the realm, initiating a long drought that crippled the countryside, changing what was once a prosperous country into a struggling, destitute excuse for a kingdom. During that long year, trees withered, grass died, and much of the soil was pronounced infertile. People suffered from starvation and lethal diseases that spread like wildfire throughout the dominion. Much-needed water sources were either polluted or had dried up, and many villagers were forced to evacuate their homes and congregate together to stay alive, sharing with each other what few supplies they had, praying—no, crying to the goddesses for mercy. Grave markers appeared in what was once a child's playground, and the kingdom's population waned smaller and smaller. Somehow, through it all, Hyrule remained. We became a small town, working together to rebuild the dream of our ancestors. We were able to recover some of what had been wrongfully taken from us, but the memory of the peaceful place we had once known and loved became an antique dream—a dying hope that ambles through our hearts like a timeless ghost seeking the light of Heaven.

One of the most valuable things that had been lost to time was a place—the place where Link lived as a child. It was a small village situated in the Kokiri Forest, home of the Great Deku Tree and his many children. Born from his wise thoughts, these agile children would live amongst the trees, free to do as they pleased as long as they didn't leave the forest. Each child could only age ten years, at which age they'd remain for all eternity. Amid that duration, each child would have inherited his very own fairy to guide him through the woodland and make sure he never lost his way. At intervals when the moon was at its highest, hoards of these fairies would flit through the forest, seeking out the child with whom it was destined to remain forever. The child never knew when he might awaken to the bright essence of his very own fairy dozing on his pillow. Link, however, though thought to be a Kokiri, never had occasion to revel in the arrival of his fairy; but, in fact, no fairy came to him.

Many Kokiri children considered Link an outcast, but the Great Deku Tree saw his hidden potential. Unlike the many selfish, haughty Kokiri boys who desired only their own way, Link had within him a gentle willingness to do right, an unwavering courage unseen by the Deku Tree in all his years. He knew Link was destined to one day leave the forest.

Years later, the great Deku Tree assigned a fairy named Navi to carry Link a message stating the fact of the tree's curse. His illness was the beginning of a huge outbreak among the adjoining forests, the very beginning of the imminent unrest. The Deku Tree had been cursed by a man named Ganondorf, the before-mentioned fiend of the Gerudo Desert, the man who would later kill my father.

The Great Deku Tree thought it time to test the young lad's bravery. Although the tree knew his illness was beyond cure, he sent Link into his cursed body, ordering him to attack the monsters that were slowly destroying the old tree from the inside out. Link managed to complete the task, and the Deku Tree's last breath was a command: "Go to the castle. Save Hyrule."

After all was said and done, Hyrule saved, its kingdom replenished, something had to be done about the Kokiri children who were then unprotected without their guardian, the Great Deku Tree, keeping continual watch over them. For their own protection, I made a request to the goddesses. I asked them to show mercy upon the innocent children by supplanting them and their home from its venerable location to the Sacred Realm, the abode of the goddesses, where no harm could ever come. Pleased by my selfless petition, the goddesses yielded to my wishes.

Link was never able to return to his home or see his friends again, but instead, he moved into a promising village being built upon the then empty lot the Kokiri children had once occupied. There, he with the help of new friends rebuilt his treehouse, using the money he earned in his new job as a goat herder.

I sometimes wondered if I had made a big mistake in transporting the Kokiri Forest, if Link ever missed his childhood dwelling or someone special he had known there…

My thoughts were cut short when Epona suddenly halted her stride. I glanced up. We were back in the Ordon Village, back in front of Link's treehouse which seemed much less daunting than it had, now twinkling in the soft morning daylight. Link was gazing at me. I quickly hid my eyes and slid off the side of Epona.

Blinking away the old memories, I dazedly followed Link up a short ladder which lead to a small porch in front of the door. He opened the door, and I stepped in after him. It was dark inside, but Link made quick work of starting a fire in the hearth situated in the eastern corner of the cabin.

Link lead me over to a chair near the fire. When I was seated, he headed back to the door and exited. I assumed that he was going down to take care of Epona. Being alone, I reached my frozen hands toward the scorching blaze of the hearth. The warmth tingled on my cemented features. I breathed in a deep breath of the warm air, and a shiver laced down my tightly-drawn muscles, gently discharging them. Regaining feeling in my limbs, I turned to glance around the cabin. The increasing light of the crackling fire swayed and flitted around the room, spreading just enough light for me to see all four walls.

The cabin was small and simple, furnished only with the necessities like chairs, cabinets, and, of course, a bed at the hindmost extent of the house. The bed, sitting directly below a large, square window, was fixed on a slight incline one could reach by a short stairway. No ornamentation of any kind embellished the home's beautiful craftsmanship, not even curtains; and yet, I thought the house unique and strangely livable. I always had envied modest, homely living, the type I never had the charm of knowing, being a princess festooned with all the grandeur of the royal line.

An unearthly light not coming from the dazzling flame drew me over to the table in the center of the room. The table was cluttered with an odd assortment of bottles and scraps of paper, but amidst them was a large jar lying sideways, having no cork to hold in its material. Sleeping quite soundly inside the glass jar was a fairy. When fairies are asleep, their body's natural glow softens, enabling the onlooker to see, on close inspection, the creature's minuscule features; but when fairies are awake, their glow is so bright that they appear to be a vibrant orb with wings. I stared down at her bright, little head, her tiny hands tucked softly beneath.

I allowed a soft smile to break my rigid demeanor, thinking to myself how fuming Navi would be when she awoke and discovered she had missed our venture through the forest. She always had a heart for adventure.

Slowly I unlatched my eyes from her sweet, little figure and made my way to the front window where I glanced down in search of Link. He was just then stroking Epona's muzzle, her saddle and harness removed and put away. Perhaps my earlier assumptions were somewhat mistaken. Link seemed to be the same boy I had once known—the boy who silently cared, but boldly acted. He hadn't changed drastically like I had predicted, only matured. I suppose I had too. I wasn't that little girl with blond locks and an innocent smile he had met so many years ago, but I still held the same morals, still loved in the same childish way. My bright blond hair had darkened with age to a chocolaty brunette, my face had elongated, and I'd grown taller, but other than that, I hadn't changed. I was still the Princess of Hyrule. I was still the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom… Or was I?

Hearing footsteps on the ladder outside, I hurriedly fled to my chair and plopped down just as the door opened. Link made his way around me and sat in a chair close by. I didn't look at him.

I had to remember why I was there, even if the knowledge wasn't something pleasant to contemplate. I wasn't there to make small talk or rekindle the thoughts of my youth. I was there to deliver Link a message.

I stared into the spurring flames, trying to procure an approach to the discussion that wouldn't lead me into looking like a fool. My mind racing, my vision unconsciously overlapped. Suddenly I became aware of the flames of the fire warping into a figure. It was young Link, staring at me through the yellow and crimson flames. He looked so innocent, so filled with energy. I wished I could talk to the adult Link in the same way I used to when he was a boy; but now, I felt so far from him, like an outsider.

"Link…" I began. My eyes uncrossed, the fire becoming once again a torrent of shapeless flames. When he didn't answer, I glanced up into his face. His eyes gripped me. His face was so stiff and lifeless, nothing like the young face in the dyeing flames. I seemed to be looking at a callus that had slowly formed over the damaged essence of my old friend, as if he were but a remnant of what he once was. A tear quivered in my eye.

"Link…" I murmured again, this time laboriously. It was as if I were calling him back from a memory, trying to restore what I had once known and loved. How much I wished this were all a nightmare, an unrealistic interpretation of my friend I had devised in my self-conscious, yet it was true.

My body shook. I knew my next words would seem crazy and absurd, but they were the ones that had been weighing on my heart—the words that had dragged me out of my castle in the middle of the black night.

I reached out my left hand, displaying its backside in the light of the flame.

"The Triforce…" I stuttered, suppressing a sob, "it's fading…"


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

_**.**_

Link gaped down at my outstretched hand cautiously, as if his mind hadn't grasped the finality of my statement or he doubted the intake of his own ears, lest they had deceived him. Confusion was evident in every crease of his features, being brightly exposed by the fire's dazzling discharge.

Finally overcoming his initial reaction to my announcement, whether it was caution or doubt that discouraged him from responding, Link leaned forward, gently taking my hand into his. At his touch, an uncanny jitter snaked over my skin, but I made no movement suggestive of the unusual sensation except for a sudden stiffening in my backbone. Link didn't seem to notice. Instead, he continued to study the shape on the backside of my hand, and his expression shifted to one I, watching him, thought comparable to the countenance of a man reading the epitaph of a dear friend. His face bore such a strange mixture of sorrow and curiosity, it caused a fear to arise and dangle in my throat. I held my breath, awaiting his verdict, my entire life drowning in a sea of suspense.

Slowly—ever too slowly!—Link moved my hand from side to side, gazing at it from all angles. My arm grew tired of maintaining its extended position, but finally, he gave my hand a slight squeeze—so slight, if my mind wasn't fully focused on him, I wouldn't have felt—before releasing me. The trivial press of his fingers seemed to be more of an automated response than a reassuring gesture, because Link didn't seem to be in a friendly mood. He sat back in his chair and lowered his head into the shadows, so I could not read his expression. I carefully placed both my hands in my lap, covering the faded mark of one with the other. In doing this, my eyes never ceased from searching Link's opaque face, not once.

After a silent moment, I began to wonder if he was deliberately avoiding my expectant gaze or simply unaware of my desiring his response. Again, I waited. As the fire popped and sizzled in its stationary grate, its nimble glare, unrestrained and unkempt, danced around us, it being the only source of movement and noise in the room.

Of course he thought I was crazy. What I owned of the Sacred Relic, the gift bestowed to our realm when the goddesses departed—the dominant device which took the shape of three bright golden triangles, two at the base and one sitting upon the others—couldn't simply fade from my possession; could it?

Although I was almost positive such an occurrence was impossible, my knowledge of the design of the goddesses was insignificant compared to the vastness of its mechanisms. But not just I, no one, not even the Great Sages, came near to the full understanding of its meaning and ability. For centuries, since Hyrule and the Triforce existed, we all believed the long-lived legend that the Sacred Relic had the power to grant one wish by its owner; but there had come a time seven years ago when Ganondorf had, in fact, taken possession of the power-laden emblem and presented his wish upon it. Contrary to the olden myth, his evil request was not brought to fruition. Instead, when the dazzling power made contact with his hand, the Triforce shattered into three golden triangles, three pieces that represent the golden goddesses and each one's quality: power, wisdom, and courage. Then the power existing in those great pieces entered into three people, their fated owners, who were destined, I suppose, to one day reunite the balance and restore the fullness of the celestial power.

Wisdom possessed me, unmeasurable courage took hold of Link, and Ganondorf was given a great and terrible power. This event still didn't make much since to me—why we were chosen, even Ganondorf in his wickedness, to own a piece of the goddesses. Were we, in fact, destined? Or did the power merely enter into the beings who stood closest? Either way, as an indication of those who own the power, an outline of the Triforce in its fullness appeared on the hand of the bearer of each part. Mine appeared on my left hand, where it had remained without blemish until most recently, when the mark began to slowly, but surely, fade! The dreams I had been having, in which the goddess Nayru spoke of seeking out a hero, seemed to evidence this idea.

Such an occurrence as the power once contained in the Golden Goddesses' Triforce fading from its occupant had never, I supposed, been considered before in the minds of those who were aware that I had, in fact, possessed a portion of its supernatural power. However, my mark was, indeed, smudged beyond a shadow of a doubt. More convincing than even that clear indication was the fact of the past few weeks' ineptness. Ever since I uncovered the fact of my Triforce's diminishing, I had begun to behave in a way I never before thought myself capable of behaving. Such unusual urges of dismay, with which I had never associated before, struck me blind to what truly transpired. I grew distraught over small inconveniences and failed to realize the plight lurking behind my outlandish worries.

In a shorter time than seemingly possible, my harmless, though unfounded impulses escalated into major mistakes. I fell behind in my duties, failed to give accurate rulings, and in just two weeks—two weeks!—ruined the reputation I had built up since childhood.

Now I was at Link's house, mid-morning, my hair frizzled to complete chaos, my gown wrinkled and ripped beyond salvageable, and my heart deeply distressed with the concern that I was simply broken, a downright fool who had pretended to be something more all these years, or worse, that the goddesses had found me unfit for my power and retaken it, or beyond horrible, that someway, somehow, the goddess's power itself was waning, being drawn out by some dreadful evil. But was all this even possible?

"Princess?" a hesitant whisper yanked me back into the present. While revivifying the events of the past, my eyes had slowly migrated downward, and now my absent gaze was fixed to the floor. Giving my head a slight shake, I looked back at him, my mind just then processing his one word: Princess. I pressed my teeth together firmly. Such a simple word should not have caused such a painful injury, and yet it did, shooting through my heart as sharply as an arrow. To Link, I had always been Zelda, or Zel, but never "Princess." He had always been respectful of my position, but we were friends who never cared for the labels of superiority given to those born of royal lineage. I had never tried to act above him, and for him to so sourly address me with the title I meekly lived under was beyond cruel.

Slowly, I let my clasped jaws loosen. The taste of my own mouth was unsavory. I gave Link a dignified stare, straightening my slackened posture.

"Link, do you assume I have trekked this whole night to be treated with such avoidance?" I began in as "princess" a voice as I could muster, for after all, a princess, apparently, was all he considered me. Even as the words were leaving my lips, I regretted them. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away, my gaze once more shying away from his.

Link's chiseled demeanor softened, and he relaxed his rigid posture, leaning forward again; but I turned away, trying to hide my damaged bearings.

"Zelda…" he whispered calmly. My naked name, unclothed by any title of authority, sounded so sweet upon his vocals, and yet his compassion evoked in me no comfort whatsoever. My heart yearned to once again rightly own the name of Zelda—to completely be the Zelda he once knew, but I was but an ebbing shadow, only similar in figure and features, not in heart and soul.

"I really don't think there is anything to worry about," Link continued, speaking slowly, gazing into my restless face. To the reflections of the fire, his bright blue eyes were exquisite mirrors, but to me, they were nothing but a teasing reminder of what once was mine. "Zelda, it's really late, and I can't…I just can't grasp what you are trying to say. It's apparent that your mark is faded, but what do you suppose we do?"

The mask of severity under which Link had succeeded in concealing his insecurity was beginning to fall, giving way to an earnest demeanor. I could now see how tired he was, and I mentally cursed myself for being such a blind fool! Who knew how hard he had worked all day, out in the fields, or in the heat of the barn! Yet here I was, filling his head with the nonsense of unproven events, keeping him awake and victim to a sleepless mind trying to make sense of my prattle!

Besides that, his beyond-refutable point struck me. What could we do? What had I expected of him? To my surprise, I found these questions held no adequate answer. Never in my life had I experienced such a sense of regret until that very moment, when the weight of the world seemed to be dangling from my soul.

"Link…" I began, concealing my shame under chiding vocals. "You should get some rest. I'll…" I breathed in a deep, wavering breath of lukewarm air. "…We'll talk later." In answer, he gave a curt nod. That was the end of the discussion I had desired all night, but I felt no more comforted than I had before it began.

Link grabbed some blankets and pillows from a cupboard and gave them to me, and I positioned them on the old wooden chair as comfortably as possible. When he saw that I was well established, he ascended his short stairway, and after removing his gloves, belt, and sword, he leaped into bed.

Sighing, I figured there was no way under heaven wherewith I could sneak into the peace and oblivion of sleep, but I eased my throbbing head back against the small, limp pillow and closed my burning eyes. Even against the obstinacy of my racing mind, exhaustion dragged me into the dismal monotony of slumber.

That's when the dream began.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

_**.**_

I awoke with a start. Miles and miles above my head arched a gargantuan sapphire, which spread its glistening, twilight-soft essence across the top of the world like a sky. Its smooth, glow-casting crystals radiated shafts of light which streamed down through the air, drizzling a soft blue light into my face.

I lay for a minute to catch my breath and realize that I was dreaming. As I gazed up into the motionless hemisphere, a smile wriggled across my features. The silence which surrounded me didn't feel fretful or agitating, but seemed to be unhurriedly weaving its perpetual frequency through the air, leaving behind it a happy sense, comparable with the excitement seeming to dangle in the air soon after a celebration, once guests have departed to their own homes for the night and nothing remains except the stirring remembrance of chatty voices reverberating in the halls.

For some reason, the silence reminded me of my long-forgotten past, and my mind began to effortlessly drift away into the far recesses of my remembrance.

I recalled the wispy, light-hearted sentiment that would arise in my heart after a banquet at the castle, once all the guests had bidden their cordial thanks and forlorn farewells—a time most late in the evening or even near day-break if the party went especially well. I'd change into my night gown and trek a silent, barefoot step through the once-crowded halls and pantries, now oddly still and vacant, leaving hardly a trace of the former rumpus except a misplaced knickknack, some empty plates in need of washing, or a half-eaten morsel of cake beneath a glass dome. Even so, I'd still hear the loud, boisterous laugh of some male guest echoing through my mind, and the light, female twittering that would follow. My remembrance would not have yet failed in recalling the vivid faces of a dear friend or new acquaintance smiling warmly into my countenance, offering a hand in dance which I amiably though unhappily declined, a strict glare from Impa ensuring me of my limitations during social gatherings. As my feet would quietly sweep across the icy brick floor, the warmth of the crowd swiftly fleeting, I'd wrap my shawl close about my shoulders and pause for a moment to breathe in the lingering fumes of the sweet-smelling pantry, although its many desserts had all been savored and consumed; and the bakers, known for their willing hearts and talent for making their decorative delicacies as good-tasting as they were good-looking, had been well appreciated.

After those long, stirring gatherings, the strong, contented silence that would pervade the vacant rooms was what I heard just then, lying below the crystal, ethereal air of a dream.

More happy recollections overtook me, but they were less vibrant, only transient pictures sweeping across my mind's eye, before collecting once again beyond my reach in the dulled, hollow extremity of history. As they came and went in a fleeting manner, I flung my arms across my chest and held them there tightly and vivaciously, as little girls do, who cherish a moment with the clasping of hands as if hoping to grip the intangible and pull it into their hearts as a memento they'd love forever.

Yet, very soon, the memories mellowed until I became smartly aware of my being where I should not be. Distractedly, I sat erect and glanced around my surroundings, being once again taken in wonder.

It was a small wooden rowboat in which I sat, drifting through a lake which mirrored the sky, twinkling with its lazy iridescence.

Though unmanned, the craft seemed inaptly sure of its course, cutting a straight line through the fluid, trailing sparkles in its wake. Bizarre ripples, having no visible initiation, bent and wriggled in the thin water, creating many passing designs which intertwined and mingled with each other.

Moving carefully, not wanting to upset the magic keeping the boat aright, I repositioned myself so that I could look down into the smooth currents. I was startled to see a face gazing back into mine, rippling beneath the water. It was a beautiful woman arrayed in a soft gown of the purest white imaginable. An embroidery of delicate pink leaflets was strung around the mid-section of the gown and creeping up its fluently-draped one and only sleeve, fluttering lightly the a warm, moist breeze rising from the water. Her hair, tied loosely to the side with a golden clasp, was a suave chocolaty brunette streaked with honey-colored highlights. Her features were stoic and mature, and her eyes, a perfect gray-blue, wistfully regarded me.

Awe softened my gaze, and I leaned toward the water to get a closer look at the magical lady. The reflection mirrored my movements, and with shock, I realized she was, in fact, not a spirit nor a sprite, but I myself! Hurriedly, I plopped back onto my knees and glanced down. The fabric of my gown was so silky; it fluttered over my skin like a summer breeze.

"Princess Zelda…" A set of musical, female voices, effervescing in the air from all directions at once murmured my name simultaneously. My eyes drifted in search of the speaker. Floating in front of me was a woman, whose entire body, including her eyes and shortly-cropped hair, were a shade of sunlight, being almost transparent. Her form glistened with an unearthly light, and she hovered with one knee bent, the back of its foot lightly touching the opposite ankle. At the sight of her, I was enthralled and I stared at her with all my might, although it pained my eyes to absorb her luminous glow.

"Princess…" she repeated. The voice spouting from the goddess's animated lips was a sound similar to a torrent of chimes tinkling and a thousand voices murmuring in harmony. "You bear a cross that is not light…" Her head lowered as she spoke the words, and a deep grief dulled the light of her face; but suddenly she rebounded with a new vigor, chiding, "The rocks are sharp and cutting at first, until the river, because of its endless determination, makes them smooth. You are faced with a long and vexing trial, but the end thereof will be a blessing."

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice sounding so simple combating with the beauty and amazement of her powerful vocals. The lady drifted closer and bent down to gaze into my upstretched face. Her bright glow encased me.

"I am a part of your heritage. Do you not recognize me?" Her tone was sharp and curious, and its echo rebounded off the water and sky, repeating the passionate question.

Without a voice left in my bewildered throat, I shook my head. Once again, her glow dimmed, and she floated backward a short distance. Lifting her face so that the blue crystal light could dance upon it, she began her tale.

"Years ago, I was your guide, your protector…your friend. It was I who preserved you in your mother's womb from the illness that would take her life. Even when you were a newborn in the cradle, I was there, watching you, whispering to you great stories of your coming destiny. In your youth, all my thoughts consumed you. You were wise beyond your years, for I lead you mentally, physically, and spiritually, through the many times of trouble you had to endure; but as you matured, you and I grew distant. I became a worn memory, a fantasy which you refused to consider real, shunning my protection, spurning my love. Yet, I never forgot you. I knew who you would always be; I knew we were bound at the soul, both of us whisked into a plot wherein you have the chance to fulfill a divine prophesy, to right the mistakes your father made, though you be innocent in the knowledge of them." Her starry eyes turned on me, but I barely noticed the look of deep sympathy etched across her celestial features, my mind was so enwrapped in her words.

_My father?—_I wondered, the words bursting with mystery and internal anguish. I knew little of my father, he being alive for only a portion of my youth, and how I chose to remember him wasn't a view I developed through our own relationship, but an assessment of his character influenced by numerous unintentionally overheard conversations among the townsfolk shortly following his death, when they were paying their respects. "He was a pleasant gentleman and a wise king," they had admitted plainly, adding that, after all, his taxes had been always reasonable, his judgments always impartial, and besides, he had looked the part of a king, with a regal air and fit body. To them, in the valuation of their former king, those conveniences seemed the most important and praiseworthy; and being a young and gullible child, I hung onto their words with my full heart, as if their haughty congratulation could remold and revive the dead, providing me with something of him to cherish and, through it, sense his love.

Even the eulogy given at my father's wake contained a dearth of intimacy. I had expected the speaker, who had been my father's closest associate, to bypass the topic of kingly performance shown by the former ruler—for all who were gathered there were already well aware of how worthy a king he had been—and enlighten the listeners of how good a man he was, by revealing his informal attitude—how he treated his family and conducted relationships. However, the entire speech centered around the former king's fondness of tradition, strictness of standards, and shrewdness of reigning, nothing to cause the heart to mourn its loss, nothing to stir the soul in his remembrance, and nothing to make an outsider, someone who never associated with the man, wish he gotten the chance. No, nothing poignant enough to convince the crowd that the creature dead the coffin had been more than a good king, but a good man and father.

However, at the time, I hadn't noticed the detachment. Since what the townsfolk did say of him was agreeable, and I was again, young and gullible, I trusted that my father must have been a wise and sensible man. Therefore, to fill in the empty void only a father can fill, I devised an extravagant, close-to-perfect interpretation I felt certain could accurately clothe the vacant figure, although I fear it was far from the truth. How could I expect the townsfolk, his humble people, to say anything wrong of the man in front of his daughter closely following his death?

The truth was most likely that no one, not even I wanted to remember the deceased king the way truth defined. The realness of the man who had had a part in my creation haunted my past like a recurring nightmare. I am certain I'll never be able to forget or alter the distinct and only memory of that strict, unforgiving man chained to a throne, who treated everyone, even I and his faithful servants, with the detachment of a stranger—the man called "King," the man my father. Yet, if he had always been so cold and distant, I am not certain. In his presence, there seemed to always linger the mysterious essence of a slumbering cordiality, as though there were a hidden sorrow concealed beneath his remoteness and an ounce of love drifting in his being—a love for me that began to fade after the death of my mother. I could only imagine how life would have been if my dear mother, bless her heart, hadn't died during childbearing.

A soft voice gently eased my mind out of its quandary.

"Do not let your heart be troubled."

My eyes focused upon the glow-adorned face of the lady who still watched me. Dropping my toilsome thoughts into the chasm of mind and soul, I asked in a wavering voice powered by forcefulness, "Where are we?"

"We are in the realm between dimensions," was her rejoinder. "I have brought you here to enlighten you in your low spirits."

Though my emptiness of expression didn't alter, I laughed inwardly at her words, thinking how terribly she was going about accomplishing her mission.

The lady pursed her lips. "Laugh not, my child," she chided. "Your fortune is pressing on us both!" A fearful expression must have surmounted my face, for seeing it, the woman forced a slight smile, whispering softly, "Dearest, I both see and feel the pain you suffer...though our bond fades by the moment…"

Suddenly, a peculiar itchy feeling penetrated into my right hand, and I automatically glanced down at it. My Triforce! It was pulsating, being there and then not, each time reappearing more faded, more smudged, more absent! My eyes widened, and my fear-stained countenance rose toward the lady for an explanation. The bright glow that had illuminated her form was pulsing simultaneously with my Triforce, and she was shaking her head slowly, melancholy twinkles sinking in her wide, orbed eyes. Then I watched as she slowly began to fade.

"You're the Goddess of Wisdom!" I concluded in a shout. As I spoke the words, a cold wind swept in from the sea, carrying with it the spray of the water. It stole away my voice, sent it reeling across the expanse with a sound like thunder. My hair whipped out of place, and the spray of the waves as they roared into action plastered my dress to my skin. Fretfully, I glanced around, the serenity of the moment being replaced by a fear which churned in my blood like poison. A dark fog crept onto the surface of the spiraling water, spreading out in all directions. Dread tingled on every inch of my skin.

"WE FADE!" Loud hysterical voices, sounding as if they echoed from a great distance sprang into my eardrums, making my heart leap into a fast-paced palpitation. Two figures appeared on either side of the pulsating goddess. They looked exactly like her except one was green and the other was pink. A moment later, the distraught wind encased them both in two large cyclones of wind and water. The sky blackened, and the water leaped up and down, upsetting the boat, careening it to the side. On impact with a wave, I was thrown back into the center of the ship. I stared up at the black sky rumbling with thunder, and the sun-colored goddess appeared once again. In that instant, time slackened and the background noises deadened. I zoned into her serene and penetrating countenance as she lovingly regarded me.

"This is not the end, my princess..." Her whisper was like the sound of an endless river, and it soothed my soul. "When battle has made you weary, pray to me for enlightenment." She pulsed again, and this time disappeared completely. Everything did.

In the shadow of a consciousness returning from a dream into the void of deep sleep, I heard and saw nothing, until suddenly a surge of deep and heavy laughter bellowed into my eardrums, and my heart quavered in fear, for I recognized the boisterous laugh.

"Ganondorf!" I screamed, before everything dulled.


End file.
